| Subject: Big Blue Sky Part Eight |
Author:
Karen
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Date Posted: 12:08:53 07/09/06 Sun
In reply to:
Karen
's message, "Big Blue Sky" on 20:35:06 04/21/06 Fri
A/N: I can only apologize again and hope you’ll all be patient with me. Settling in a new home and finding a builder has been more difficult than I estimated. I think (I hope) I’m back to a schedule that will allow me the time to relax and write again.
Big Blue Sky
Part Eight
Brookes Ranch
Western Montana
Thursday, 08 Nov 2007
0715
The early light cast long shadows across the landscape. Warmed by the sun, the moisture from last night’s rain swirled a low-lying mist, sending wispy tendrils to dance among the folded hills. Harm stepped onto the wide porch and let his eyes play across the vista before him.
He’d been kicked out of the kitchen this morning for the first time he could ever remember. Beth told him to go find Billy that they had more important things to do than cook eggs. Harm figured that in time Mac would want another of his omelets, but for now, he’d go along with the established way of the ranch. She’d smiled at his discomfort and shooed him out according to Beth’s edict.
As he scanned the pastures, he spotted the ranch foreman walking towards the house. The weather would turn cold soon, and the cattle had to be brought down from the higher pastures quickly. Billy had made that very clear last night.
Billy was an anachronism, a man out of his time. Though he’d flown for the newly formed Air Force as a very young man in Korea, he preferred a way of life that allowed him to tend the land and animals. Once he’d stepped out of that last government plane, he never set foot in one again. The back for a horse, or the front seat of a pickup was as far from the ground as he cared to be. To Harm he looked like he’d walked directly out of a Tom Selleck western.
With a large high crowned cowboy hat, and a plaid flannel shirt topped by a leather vest with a neckerchief, wearing Levis of an indeterminate age, he was the quintessential cowboy. He sported a flowing mustache and slightly shaggy hair that had very likely been trimmed with a tool he’d found in the horse barn. Everything about his wiry five foot six frame was functional down to his well-worn boots. Though much shorter than Harm, he carried himself with a confidence that made them more than equal. This was a simple, direct man who was at home on the wide open spaces of a cattle ranch. He gave no grief and took none from anyone.
The very moment he started talking about the land and the cattle, Harm knew this was the ally he needed. A lesser man would have resented the intrusion of this newcomer who in the old days would have been named a ‘dude’ or a ‘tenderfoot’. But Billy had no need to feel threatened. His knowledge gave him more power than he cared to deal with, and sharing the knowledge only increased his value.
From his direction of travel, it looked like Billy had been down by the bullpens this morning. It was a series of six, individual, single animal pastures with stockade like fencing to secure the large and sometimes difficult breeding animals. Harm would need to find a diplomatic way of insisting he be called whenever something was happening. It was the only way he would learn. Division of duties could be established later, for now he needed involvement.
Harm smiled and nodded as the man strode towards the porch.
“Get kicked out of the kitchen, Captain?” He asked with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.
“How’d you know?” Harm chuckled.
“Your uncle liked to cook. Beth is just establishing her territory. She never liked him in the kitchen, said he just made a mess she had to clean up.”
“I know how to clean up my own messes,” Harm defended himself.
“I’ll bet you do,” Billy eyed him. “Kinda surprised your wife didn’t stick up for you though.”
“She never misses a chance to bust my chops,” Harm smiled.
“She’s a Marine,” Billy shrugged and opened the door. “Coffee,” he nodded walking into the aroma.
Harm shook his head in disbelief, and followed.
His wife. He liked the sound of that. A week ago he’d been unattached to anything in the world except the Navy, now as the result of a family tragedy he had reconnected with Mac and been blessed with a wife, two kids, and a cattle ranch. Not a bad week’s work even if he hadn’t a clue what to do with any of them. It would be both fun and challenging to learn.
One of the first things Mac had asked Beth when they settled in the living room with drinks yesterday morning was whether there was anyone available to marry them.
“There’s a church in town,” Beth answered somewhat taken aback. “We can call the preacher’s wife and see when it’s available, or if you just want we have a JP. He has to be there anyway. He issues and signs the license. How long you planning on staying?” She knew they were both on active duty. There hadn’t been time to change their status so they would have to return soon, and that was another problem that needed to be dealt with.
“We have two weeks leave,” Mac replied.
“Not much time to plan a wedding,” Beth commented.
“We weren’t exactly thinking of a wedding,” Mac took Harms hand. “For right now, we just want to get married.”
“You asking me to marry you, Marine?” Harm grinned from ear to ear.
“You have any objections, Flyboy?” She cocked her head at him.
“Not me,” he responded.
Beth looked upon the interchange amused, but puzzled. Their brand of humor was similar to Charlie’s, but on a much deeper level.
“You mean now, Colonel?” she asked incredulity dripping from her words.
“Yes, ma’am, now. This afternoon if possible.”
Beth sat back in the chair staring hard at Mac. She’d never heard of such a thing…unless…her eyes dropped to Mac’s mid-section.
“Oh, no, Beth, nothing like that,” Mac caught the eye movement. “We just thought…”
“…that is…” Harm continued.
“I told them about the rules, Grammie,” Sam spoke up.
“Rules? What are you talking about, Samantha?” Beth gave the child a stern stare.
“You know. What you told me two weeks ago, about people sleeping together when they aren’t married.”
“Samantha, I was referring to that terrible movie you were watching. You needed to know that wasn’t the right way to behave.” Beth was stunned at the child’s temerity. “Look, Harm, Mac, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“I don’t understand, Grammie. Why is it wrong for the people in the movie, and wrong for me, but alright for them?” the young girl asked impatiently.
“Samantha Jean, go to your room. We’ll settle this later.”
“Pardon me, Beth, but I think she’s right. It isn’t okay, nor should it be,” Harm interceded. “I have to admit, we…uh…we didn’t give it enough thought before we arrived, but Sam has a point. It’s not right, not in your home.
“Look we can accommodate you both, you don’t have to do something you don’t want to do,” Beth excused.
“I think we do, don’t we, Mac?” Harm turned to her as if she were the only one in the room.
“Yes,” she returned the look. “We do.”
Vaguely Harm heard Beth’s voice, “Your mother won’t forgive you if she misses this.”
“My mother won’t forgive me if I let this woman get away again. She’ll throw us a party when Frank gets better,” Harm smiled into Mac’s eyes, blessing the sudden impulse that had sent him shopping Monday morning. Those rings on her finger should permanently still the gossip when they returned to Washington.
Beth just stared, there was obviously history here she knew nothing about. Given their determination, phone calls were made and a time was set for 7:00 pm that evening. Then Beth informed Mac in no uncertain terms that she would not be married in this house wearing Levis. Loading Mac and Sam into her truck, she hurried them off to the closest town twenty-five miles away to find a suitable dress.
It turned out to be faintly reminiscent of the dress Mac had worn in Russia. Harm couldn’t remember what color it was, only that she looked beautiful. In Russia, he’d wondered what would happen if he pulled on that little string tie at the neckline. Last night he’d found out.
They had made love for hours to the soft music of rain on the roof. It surprised him how fresh and alert they both were when the sun came up this morning.
“Coffee,” Mac smiled up at him interrupting his thoughts.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” he blushed slightly, and wondered if everyone in the room knew what he was thinking, what they were thinking when they looked at each other. He didn’t dare raise his eyes to find out.
Concentrating hard on the contents of his cup, he heard Billy say something about one of the bulls just before Beth stuck a plate of food in his hand and shoved him gently towards the large table. Chuckling softly to herself, she handed another to Harm, then dished up breakfast for Mac, the children, and herself. This was all accomplished with quick skill, and everyone was seated before the first tendril of steam had risen from their food.
During breakfast, Billy started telling Harm about the problem with one of the bulls that would require the further attention of a vet. He’d been struck by a rattler earlier in the year and though he’d recovered from the infusion of venom easily, it had left a bad patch of skin on his leg that refused to heal.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d call me whenever there’s a problem,” Harm began. “I can’t learn if I’m not involved.”
“Don’t worry Captain, this coddlin’s only gonna last for today. Figured you deserved one day for your honeymoon,” Billy grinned.
Harm was flustered by the fact that he actually felt himself blushing. Across from him Mac stifled a small chuckle, and Beth even mustered a genuine smile.
Once he recovered he asked, “So what can we do? Hasn’t the vet looked at it?”
“Oh yeah, several times. He can’t figure out what else to do, but we either cut his leg off, which won’t do much good, or he dies from the continuing infection. Bull that big can’t stand on three legs, and he’s too old and tough for anything but expensive hamburger. Besides, it will be a big loss to the ranch and the breeding program. He’s our second best breeder, and came from some pretty special bloodlines.”
Though intensely curious, Harm was overwhelmed by his first problem as part owner in the ranch. He knew nothing about cattle except that Mac loved her steaks and hamburgers, and even less about medicine, particularly veterinary medicine.
Suddenly Shaun chimed in with a surprising bit of information. “We can still try the poultice and wrap Joe suggested. Can’t do any harm, we’re already talking about putting him down.” This suggestion was made both defensively and hopefully. Harm got the idea this conversation had taken place before and Shaun was looking for a new ally.
“Who’s Joe?” he asked.
“Local Indian,” Billy responded, biting into his last piece of toast.
“Native American?” Harm responded not wanting to foster prejudice among the children.
“Yeah,” Billy smiled benignly. “One of them. He’s a good man, runs the local feed store. He was out here the day it happened. He was talking to Shaun about this old time remedy his grandfather taught him years ago,” Billy snorted. He’d lived his entire life depending on vets and traditional medicine, and didn’t have much patience with the recent turn towards finding ‘natural’ or ‘old’ cures for things. Vets had always worked for him, but in this case he was stumped. Though it went against his grain, he was bordering on willing to give it a try.
“So what’s this about?” Harm turned to Shaun.
It was then that Harm discovered Shaun’s goal to be a veterinarian with a special emphasis on genetic research. He had ambitions of breeding cattle that didn’t require supplements. They would have an inbred hardiness to common diseases. But his secondary interest revolved around the idea of using ‘natural’ or ‘holistic’ medicines, and he never missed a chance to speak to Joe.
Joe’s father had been a mechanic, owning a local garage until he died at eighty-five. Joe’s grandfather had been what is commonly known as the ‘medicine man’ of the tribe, but modern ways had left little interest in his knowledge among his offspring. Except for Joe. He’d spent hours as a child, and then as a young man absorbing every thing his grandfather had to teach him. Shaun had become a believer years ago, when Joe had cured his puppy of a long forgotten disease that the vet’s had said was incurable.
Harm listened to Shaun as he related the information he’d received from Joe. “But we’ll have to call him to come back out. I remember most of the ingredients, but I don’t remember the proportions. I usually write this stuff down when he tells me, but I was sort of mad that day and forgot,” he looked down, then bravely met first Harm then Billy’s eyes. His anger had been at Billy and his father for dismissing the suggestion out of hand when it could have done no harm and might have helped.
“So at this point the bull is pretty much a write off?” Harm asked Billy.
The cowboy shrugged with acceptance, he knew where Harm was going with this thought. “The vet’s coming in a couple hours, but I don’t expect him to have made any startling new medical discoveries since the last time he was here.”
“So there’s nothing else useful we can do with the bull?” Harm queried further.
“Not unless you like hamburgers,” Billy grinned a bit sardonically.
“Mac does, but I doubt even she can eat that many,” Harm smiled in return.
“I figure it’s pointless not to allow Shaun to try his remedy. I gotta admit we’ve tried everything else.” Billy graciously surrendered. “If he succeeds, we’ve got a prize breeding bull and a new treatment. If he fails, well, we still have hamburger.” The smile that followed was genuine. He had done his best and he’d been defeated. He only worried now that if the ancient remedy had been capable of working that he’d waited too long to apply it.
“We’ll give it a try Shaun,” the foreman spoke to the young man as a contemporary although one of lesser rank. “The Captain’s right, we have nothing left to lose. I’ll call Joe after breakfast and ask him to come out when he can. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want to share his family secrets with me,” Billy commented ruefully.
“Thank you, sir,” Shaun replied seriously, with no hint of triumph. He, too, worried that they had waited too long. His biggest fear though, was that Joe would come while he was in school and he would miss everything.
A few minutes later Shaun and Sam scrambled from the table and tumbled upstairs to collect their books. They were returning to school today for the first time since their parents went missing.
“I’m worried about them,” Beth confided to Mac. “Neither one of them has dealt with this much. It’s too soon for them to go back. There’s no closure.”
“It will take time,” Mac reassured Beth. “We’re all here for them, but they have to do it in their own way.”
“Maybe, but shutting it out isn’t good,” the grandmother insisted.
“No more so for adults,” Mac prodded gently. “Sometimes you have to set it aside for a little while, to get your strength back so you can deal with it. Once the authorities release the…uh…release Charlie and Joan we can have the funeral. Then everyone can get the closure they need. I just hope that’s before Harm and I have to return.” She turned pleading eyes on her new husband, willing him to do something.
“I’ll call today,” he promised.
“Good,” Beth abruptly rose from the table and collected her dishes to put in the sink. She was so obviously still struggling with her own grief.
Mac’s eyes met Harm’s in another silent conversation then she rose. “I’ll do that Beth.”
Beth just nodded placing the items back on the table. “I have to take the kids to the bus-stop out on the road,” she wiped her hands and excused herself. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”
“Take your time, I’ll take care of this,” Mac told the woman as she walked to the door.
Beth turned, “Maybe I’ll go see Donna for a while. She’s an old friend, lives down the road.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Mac agreed then turned back to clear the table. Beth wasn’t quite ready to let go of her feelings in front of virtual strangers either. In the background, Shaun and Sam raced for the old truck in some obvious contest for a favorite seat.
“I’ll help,” Harm rose with his plates and a few others.
“It’s okay. Don’t you need to go with Billy?”
“We’ll go in a minute, Colonel,” the foreman addressed her. “I know how to clean up my messes too.” The twinkle in his eye, and Harm’s grin, told her that they had already bonded in some way.
Twenty minutes later, after a quick call to the feed store in town, the three of them were headed across a pasture towards the bull pens. The sun was still warm on their backs, but promised cooler weather soon. They were halfway across the pasture when they heard the sound of hoofs thundering in their direction. Harm’s first thought was that one of the bulls was loose. He spun in place and stepped in front of Mac, facing whatever threat presented itself.
Billy watched with amusement as Harm’s protective instinct warred with his complete ignorance of the behavior of large western-bred animals. Mac tried to step from behind Harm to assess the threat. She at least had some experience from her time in Arizona. It wasn’t much, but it might serve them better than Harm’s childhood spent around dairy cattle.
Fifteen feet from them two horses and a huge steer came to an abrupt standstill, watching them with curiosity. The younger of the two horses broke ranks and walked forward until he could nuzzle Harm’s shirtfront.
Charmed by the colt, Harm reached out and stroked his neck as he’d seen Mac do the day before. There’d been a pair of cantankerous, retired draft horses on his grandmother’s farm, but nothing for riding. He’d learned to ride in California with his high school buddies, but those horses were impersonal, stabled, riding stock.
“The grey is ‘Shortie’ and this is her foal. Sam named him ‘Willy’, and that’s ‘Baby’,” Billy indicated the steer dismissively. The well trained mare slowly followed her foal when Billy reached a hand out to her. Finally, the steer approached quietly and nudged Mac’s hand to be petted.
“Baby?” Harm’s eyes grew a little wider.
“He was Sam’s first project. He was orphaned. She had to hand feed him and she got too attached. She couldn’t let him go. Charlie let her keep him for a pet.” Billy’s tone indicated he didn’t much approve. “After that she accepted she shouldn’t make pets of them. This is a ranch, the cattle are a crop same as if we raised corn. Sooner she learns that the happier she’ll be.”
He turned and headed for the fence. “Let’s go, we have work to do, then we need to talk about getting those steers out of the upper range.”
He couldn’t fault the captain’s bravery, but he had a lot of work to do teaching the man how to handle livestock. Later this morning, they’d start by checking out his riding skills.
End of eight
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